Ya so definately…good stuff. It’s like 3 and I’ve spent the past 3
hours staring into the TV screen watching Guitar Hero…which is
basically Guitar DDR. It’s like the coolest thing ever. Sometimes it
pays to have ultra nerdy brothers and then an uber nerdy best friend
who is also rich. Gingo bought 2 Guitar Heroes…so we had two
guitars…It’s a pretty beasty game. But I sorta sat around staring at
the screen watching the colors fly by and got up to check the time to
go back to AIM and I was like AK its 3. Ya. Well…story of my life. I
love that feeling of absence of time that seems to accompany break…it
reminds me of such bittersweet hours spent with my brothers at 5 in the
morning.

It looks as though the infamous Hun Xanga has been updated for the new
year…and mwa ha ha I’m the first one with my hands on it. It’s
spiffy…and at this point severly narrowing down who writes it…I’d
guess a senior now…favorite part would definately be:

26.) You are constantly losing your backpack and are late to
class because you are busy frantically searching for it. Oddly enough,
you usually learn that Dean “misplaced” it.

Anyway. I’ve been thinking alot about that…”man”…recent love
interest…A part of me is sometimes feeling that maybe Aunt Cheryl is
right…maybe I am at the point in my life where I’m just ready to just
settle down already and have a real relationship…that I need
something to fall back on…but…strange and inconsistent as it is for
me…I’m often still feeling repulsed by the idea of a boyfriend. It’s
completely inexplicable and irrational…but I just sometimes get
surges of individuality…feminism perhaps…I really do like being
alone. It’s not the hassle I’m worried about…because I think I need
something to be passionate about…passion that I can control…but
maybe it’s fear…maybe just because the candidate presents so many
disarming futures. It’s so lovely and easy for me to wallow in these
idyllic fantasies…but I must stop myself and pull back…because I
know that will lead me precisely back down the path I must never dare
to return to…and it’s horrible for the vague idea of a relationship
to be formulating in my mind…but I can’t help it. I’m a romantic and
I’m Lauren. First and foremost I dream. Then I think. But I can’t let
myself get attached to the abyss again…perfection is too plausible to
conceptualize. It’s obviously not nothing…the tension between us
could destroy a small city. But I won’t let myself give in. Perhaps it
really is the fear…just because it’s “him.”
Because there are so many variables…and not even the fear of getting
my heartbroken…but ruining a friendship…for once I cross that
threshold
there is no turning back. Shatter the past and let go of everything I
know…in hope of a transitory moment of sheer beauty. It’s a point of
no return…and it’s just a
question of whether or not it’s worth the leap. And of course the romantic inside me swells up and wants to
immediately dash off the edge and forget worries and
possibilities…and so do I. But I won’t let myself be a victim again.
And I won’t let myself be a ragdoll. And I certainly won’t let myself
be played around with by him. Not by him. I won’t be controlled by men.
If there’s anything that’s hardened me throughout this past year…it’s
that. I’d rather be alone than in submission.
With him it’s not just cherry blossoms and sweet melodies ringing in my
ears…it’s truth…it’s raw and it’s harsh and it’s teetering on the
edge of pure beauty. I wish I could just thrive in simplicity. The
complexity of the situation is running me into the wall. I wish I could
love and live and breath in one swift motion…It was so easy for me to
love Dan Reiss…because there was no fear of striking out…merely
because there was no hope of winning. And I thrived on the sheer idea
that it was and would be forever, all in my mind…and it was perfect.
Exactly what I needed. At the time it was manifested perfection. I
didn’t need it…or even him…just a cracked picture in my shaking
hand and
a dream to cling to. But the idea of dependance on “him” is so utterly
frightening to me. So for now I’ll just sit in the idle
disarray…transition on the wheel of fire and dwell on apotheosis. I’m
not waiting for him…but waiting for my own heart…to find it’s
prey…latch on…and never let go. I want the fierce and looming
future…but I can’t
get carried away. The truth is…beyond everything…is that my heart
is not, in fact, ready to leap without a question…and that naturally
spurns my doubt. I’m not in love with him. I want to bathe in his
blazing eyes and sulk in his golden locks. It’s not merely
sexuality…it’s a carnal desire but fueled by an immaculate and divine
bond rather than passion. And yet I know…that when I do finally fall
in love with him…that it will be blissfully and torturously real and
biting…and all the more frightening. I feel majestically and
intuitively drawn to
him…but suffocated. It’s like nothing else I’ve ever
experienced…and it’s hanging by a single shining thread…and the
part I hate most is that it’s in his hands entirely to snap. I despise
his
control…handing my fate to a man with no compassion…effortlessly
weaving me into his contorted web. I would say
it’s the mystery that draws me on…but I can’t let myself say
that…because this time…I know him. I know him all too well. And I
remain frightened. Then it may be because I know him…that I’m afraid
I’ll just be another milestone. I won’t be a leech on his arm and I
won’t be his pawn. I may be a memory once it’s faded…but I refuse to
be a number…Just as much as I refuse to be a trophy. I will be his and
I will be mine. I’ll be a scar. I’ll be a picture kept under his
mattress. But I will be mine. And nothing else. I’m frightened of being
“one of them.”
I’m frightened of crashing and burning and being scattered with ashes.
I’m frightened of nothing at all. I’m frightened of him. I’m frightened
of me. But then…beyond all…I’m frightened what will happen if I
never find out. If I never leap and simply watch these fiery looks
spark and fade to dust.

As for now I’ll just sit at the bottom of this black hole in wonder.

Simplicity feeds perfection…I’d rather spike the punch.

But boy, Iswear the stars are feuding in his eyes.

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“I want to bathe in his blazing eyes and sulk in his golden locks.”giggle. I’m amused.Sometimes, for reasons unknown to ALL, I forget how alike we are. Except you take more risks. And I’m more about the perfect plan. Which leads me to my first piece of advice of the day: You can be a hopeless romantic and think…first. It’ll probably take you years of training though. heh. But it’s okay for now. Young and impulsive fit together. And there’s nothing worse than growing up.Dude. Your aunt is cool.And get out of that black hole. If you’re going to be in a black hole you need to go to Chicago and hang out with Katie or come down here with me. No black holes in Jersey. It’s in the book.

hahaha i guess i am a little over the top arent i? i can get pretty cheesy. hey it was like 4 am…what do u expect?of course we’re alike…that’s why we’re best friends….DUH. oh come on, you can’t tel me i didnt have some awesome plans..but true…the spontaneous thing seems to burned into my head as romantic. i need training. its sad. but true. *cries*you have not even BEGUN to fathom the utter coolness of my aunt. shes like a freaking fairy godmother. she sort of rocks. huff. black holes rock. nah i aint gonin to chicago…and i dont feel like seeing you. ill stay right where i am thank you very much. FUCK THE BOOK.